


Shlof Mayn Kind

by mearchuimhne



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantastic Beasts Kink Meme, Gen, Legilimency, Magic, Newt is a precious who needs to be protected, Queenie is the best sister, The Goldsteins are Jewish, you can pry their Jewishness from my cold hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:58:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mearchuimhne/pseuds/mearchuimhne
Summary: Following the events in the City Hall subway station, Newt is hurting. Queenie helps.Filled for the kink meme prompt: http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/459.html?thread=110283#cmt110283





	

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a damned thing in like 5 years, so this is my rusty attempt at getting back into it.
> 
> In my head the Goldsteins are beautiful Jewish witches. New York in the early 20th century had a large population of Yiddish speakers; accordingly Queenie uses a couple terms of endearment in Yiddish that she might have picked up from her parents or grandparents. The title is taken from a Yiddish lullaby (it translates to Sleep My Child).

If he was asked, Newt couldn’t really remember much of what happened after they left Jacob in the rain. He was pretty sure he, Tina and Queenie had Apparated away - he couldn’t remember walking - but then everything felt numb anyway so maybe they had? No, no. At least not before reaching Tina and Queenie’s apartment. If he really thought about it he vaguely remembered his head automatically nodding at the sisters and walking to the bed he now curled up on. He was pretty sure he’d said some sort of good-night and thanks, since Tina and Queenie were going to let him stay until he could get passage sorted away from America, though that wouldn’t take too long. (Couldn’t take too long. Picquery’s clemency for his suitcase of creatures wasn’t going to last longer than a couple days.)

Newt curled his legs tighter to his chest. He hoped he'd said thanks. But he also didn't care. He couldn’t tell what time it was or how long it had been since they’d gotten back to the apartment. It was quiet in the way buildings got when it was very late, so the girls were probably asleep. The rain - Frank's rain - continued to beat against the windows, but for all that the house was warm. Charmed. Cozy and familiar even though he’d hardly been in New York for a week. That was Tina and Queenie. But it was also Jacob, his friend, who he'd liked so much, who’d gone into Newt’s suitcase with little more than a couple beckoning waves, even though he’d only just met Newt and been bitten by one of Newt's creatures, and who'd simply trusted Newt to make it better.

Newt turned bleary eyes across the room to the empty bed where Jacob had been last night — no. Longer. It was longer ago than last night, though he couldn’t exactly remember how long. The days since his arrival in New York were blurring together. It was sort of okay, though. Jacob wouldn’t be able to remember, either, so it didn't really matter if Newt couldn't. Frank would, though. Frank would have been able to fly above the venom, and Newt was pretty sure Thunderbirds weren’t susceptible to Obliviation charms the way humans were.

Newt screwed his eyes shut, feeling them start to burn.

_I want to forget._

The thought screamed through his very being. _I want to forget._

In his memories Jacob’s face quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at him and crossed his arms. Frank clacked his beak angrily. No. No, of course not. Of course he didn’t want to forget. Not them. He didn’t want to forget Credence, either, or his failure to save Credence. He should have been better. Stronger. The boy deserved so much better than Newt's pathetic attempts. He deserved a chance to live normally. He deserved a friend. Like Jacob had been, a friend like Newt would probably never have again. Jacob had been so accepting. Newt couldn’t remember the last time someone had simply accepted him and his annoying mannerisms and his creatures the easy way Jacob had.

The bed clothes pressed wetly against Newt’s cheek. His breath stuttered in his chest. The wet spread rapidly against his jaw and temple, but he ignored the unpleasant stick and didn’t bother to wipe his face.

Newt opened his eyes, casting them back to the empty bed that should have been Jacob’s, now blurred by tears. He looked to his suitcase on the floor. His creatures needed looking after. He should see to them now, but his limbs felt so heavy. Moving them hurt. Tina had wanted him to go back to MACUSA or to one of their hospitals to be seen by a Mediwitch for relief from the Cruciatus curse. Queenie had stopped her insistence with a murmur. Newt hadn’t heard what she’d said but he also didn’t care that much.

It was right for him to hurt. He’d failed Credence, failed to keep Jacob, he hadn’t even been able to bring Frank back to Arizona himself and now Frank could be caught or killed by some hunter trying to get back there himself!

The tears came back fresh, setting off rattling sobs in Newt’s chest that he could only barely suppress. He curled up tight and shoved his face in the pillow and cried and cried and cried…

 

_Behind him Credence was screaming. Graves stood over him, distorted like he was somehow 7 feet tall, face drawn and snarling in rage. The Cruciatus coursed through him and behind him Credence was screaming screaming screaming screaming because the Aurors continued to throw curses meant to kill and nobody was listening when they tried to tell them to stop and Credence kept screaming his pain—_

_They were taking his creatures to die. They were taking them to that same sterile room with that awful, viscous, magic-destroying stuff and they were throwing the creatures into it and he could only watch and scream and scream and the Obscurial thrummed and grew and swirled with hate—_

_Graves’ face melted into Grindlewald’s lips pulled back in a parody of a smile as he cast the Killing Curse, over and over, killing Jacob, Frank, Tina, Dougal, Queenie, Picket, Theseus, and all his creatures, one by one by one—_

 

Queenie sat up in bed, eyes wide open and completely alert despite the sudden transition from sleep. At least she hadn't been asleep very deeply. Fear that wasn't hers coursed through her thoughts, but the house was silent. She looked quickly over at Tina, who was still deeply asleep on the couch and hadn't so much as twitched when Queenie moved. That left only one option to explain the fear and anguish ringing through her mind.

Queenie swung her legs off the bed and flicked her wand. Her robe floated from the chair and she wrapped herself up in it as she padded towards the bedroom and eased the door open. The lights were still on. Newt was curled up so tightly he looked like he was half his real height. His body shook visibly. His breathing wasn't that of a person sleeping easily - the closer she got the more she could see snatches of his dreams. He hadn’t even gotten under the covers. Queenie bit her lip in sympathy and crossed to him, sitting down and taking in the tear tracks on his face and touching his cheek. The tears were still fresh.

“Oh, honey,” she breathed. Carefully she placed her hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Scamander?” Queenie murmured, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Hey Newt? Honey? Wake up, Newt. You're having nightmares.”

The anguish and phantom pains disappeared from her mind and were replaced with a whirling confusion and sudden panic. Newt’s long, lean body shot up in bed with a choked back cry. Queenie wrapped her arms around Newt’s shoulders and held tightly until the shaking stopped, murmuring soothingly into his ear. Slowly, slowly, Newt’s body relaxed — as much as it ever did. His breathing slowed and his thoughts stuttered to grasp his surroundings. Queenie continued to whisper soothingly until Newt's mind matched her blond hair and touch with her name and safety.

Queenie pulled back just enough to see his face. She left her arms around his neck and smiled encouragingly. “That’s it. It's Queenie Goldstein. You wake up now, my _shayner_. You’re safe here.”

Newt’s brow furrowed and he blinked. “… Queenie?”

“You were having nightmares,” she said. “They were gettin' kinda loud. I thought you might want to have a friendly face instead.”

Newt’s gaze skittered away to look at her robe, over her shoulder, towards the empty bed. Queenie read his anger at himself even before he spoke. His voice was hoarse. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think you'd, well, I didn't mean to wake you. I don’t—” Newt bit his lip to cut himself off, but his mind darted to ‘alone’ before he could stop thinking. 'Alone' was a lot longer than just a year of traveling with his suitcase of creatures.

Queenie pulled him back close to her, nudging her shoulder against him until he laid his head there. She stroked Newt’s hair. “None of that, _neshomeleh_. I know you’ve been on your own a lot but you’re still with friends. And I know we’re not Jacob, and I miss him too, but we’re still worth somethin’, right?”

Despite the soft laugh in her voice, a frantic sense of wanting- of _needing_ to hold tightly to her and Tina greeted the question. Just as quickly it chased away by the feeling of wanting to cry again and then a swift ‘stupid you'll annoy them’.

“You will not. Anyway, annoying doesn’t mean we won't be your friends, or that you can’t have friends. You just need the right people,” Queenie said gently. “You know, Teens may not admit it but she’s never had so much fun as with you and your illegal suitcase. Getting out with you, with your creatures... it was good for her. She’d’a started denying wand permits for her own satisfaction and filing the paperwork by wand-wood-type instead of last name if you hadn’t come around when you did, and then there’d really have been trouble.”

Newt’s breath caught on a reedy laugh and amusement flashed through him. Queenie giggled with him and hugged him closer. "That's better."

He was still so sad, so missing Frank and Jacob, and he still radiated grief for a boy he hadn’t been able to save, but he wasn’t quite as lost as he had been. Getting over the nightmares would come in time.

“You ready to try sleepin’ again honey?”

Newt nodded slightly against her shoulder and sat up. Queenie stood and tapped her wand against the wet bedding. It dried instantly. A delicate flick of her wand had the blanket from the empty bed floating over to cover Newt.

She leaned over to tuck him in. “There now. Snug as a bug in a rug.”

Newt huffed a sound that might have been a laugh. “A rug?”

“It's what my parents used to say when they were puttin' me and Tina to bed,” Queenie said. Then she grinned and nudged him. “Budge over.”

Newt blinked at her, confused, but obligingly shuffled himself onto his side and nearer to the wall. Queenie laid down on top of the blanket and giggled. “I ain’t had a sleepover in a long time, you know. Good night, my _shayner_.”

“Good night,” Newt said slowly. He paused, eyes firmly on the blanket, chewing his lip. Then, “Um, sorry, I just- Do… do I want to know— that is, what’s— what're-“

“A _shayner_. Somethin’ my parents used to call me n’ Teens. It’s probably good. They always sounded very fond when they said it.”

“Oh. Oh I see. Well. Um. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

Queenie watched Newt close his eyes. She watched his breathing even out. When his thoughts stopped twisting in circles around Jacob and friends and Frank and the boat he was supposed to get on, she twined her fingers into his hair and stroked. “You’ll be okay, Newt. It’ll be okay.”


End file.
